What other choice do we have? her inner voice murmured. Weighing her options, she couldn’t think of anything else.
Silas began to ask questions about wardrobe measurements and carriage costs. He went to his desk as Ferran outlined the gritty details of their plan.
Sora clenched her fist, trying to ignore her doubt. With every passing minute, Burn’s survival seemed less and less likely. Infiltrating The Regency seemed like a huge distraction. They should be scouring the city right now, searching every street corner and dark alley for sign of the Shade.
But if the Shade were in The Regency, they wouldn’t be in the city proper.
She cast a final look at Crash, turned and left the room.
* * *
Crash followed Sora out of Silas’ cabin into the wet night. That final glance concerned him. It contained a wildness, a desperation, that he recognized. He didn’t know if she would confront their captive again, or leave the ship outright, but he had to make sure she stayed close. The Shade didn’t want Burn, after all. They wanted Sora.
A distracting glimmer over his shoulder halted his steps.
“I have words for you,” Caprion said as he exited the cabin.
Crash hesitated, watching Sora in a moment of indecision. She headed for her cabin, away from the galley and the cargo hold. At least she wasn’t being rash. Resigned, he turned to face the Harpy.
“Let’s hear it,” Crash said. The soft percussion of rain struck the deck. Behind them, the wide expanse of The Bath stretched off into a windy, throbbing darkness.
Caprion spoke directly. “It’s time we put our differences aside, Viper. The Shade is after Sora, and they took Burn. We can no longer waste time fighting each other.” He gave Crash a searching look. “If you know anything about the Shade, you should tell me now.”
Crash raised an eyebrow. “Tell me first why the Matriarch sent you,” he said.
Caprion paused for too long. Crash expected as much; they both had their secrets.
“I was sent to watch you,” Caprion finally admitted. “And to kill you, should you side with the Dark God.”
“Or just kill me,” Crash amended.
Caprion nodded wordlessly.
Crash bowed his head to the rain. Then an ironic laugh broke from his throat. He shot the Harpy an empty grin. “And now I should trust you? Knowing you were sent to kill me, and doubtless many more of my kind?” He took a slow step forward. “That’s your mistake, you know—confiding in me. Assuming I care. We’re not brothers in some fellowship.”
Caprion’s face twisted in anger. Crash watched the man’s patience slip, savoring the experience.
“They want Sora’s Cat’s Eye, and she needs to be protected,” the Harpy ground out. “They took Burn. We need to find The Book of the Named. I am trying to help you, but you are withholding information. I saw you speak to that assassin in the woods outside the village. I know they’ve contacted you.”
Crash became guarded. “What happened in the woods was a pointless confrontation, no more than what you saw at the windmills. We’ll find Burn, and The Book of the Named won’t be far behind. You don’t know us well, Harpy. We’ve been fighting this battle for almost a year now. Sora doesn’t need your protection.”
“She does,” the Harpy murmured, “from you.”
Crash’s hand drifted close to his dagger. He felt that inner darkness stir. This stranger knew nothing of what Sora had been through—what she’d survived, and what they'd shared.
“Your demon darkens your aura,” Caprion said quietly. His eyes flickered around Crash’s form as though watching flies dart through the air. “Your demon lives close to the surface of your skin. You’re not as in control as you think, Viper. I don’t know what kind of thrall you have over this girl, but let her go.”
Crash hated the Harpy’s words—their truth and their arrogance. “You underestimate her, and you underestimate me. She chose me willingly to protect her. That’s why I joined her side. But a man like you doesn’t understand loyalty.” He gave the Harpy a direct look. “You lied to Sora, to me, to this crew, to the Matriarch—why are you here, Harpy? Be honest with yourself.”
Caprion stared at him.
“Coward,” Crash spat. Then he turned and walked away, back toward the row of cabins. He felt the Harpy’s magic wash over him in a wave of frustration, but he ignored it. Caprion was just like the rest of his kind. Righteous, to the world—deceitful, to himself.
“If you won’t tell me the full truth about the Shade, then at least tell Sora,” Caprion called after him unexpectedly.
Crash looked back.
The Harpy’s silhouette glowed vaguely through the rain. “Her life is at risk,” he said. “You owe her.”
Crash considered those words. Then he continued along the side of the ship toward the cabins. The Dawn Seeker smelled of wet timber and rain. He glanced up at the heavy mass of clouds overhead. No stars. No moon. Pure darkness.
He thought of Sora, and of that name—Cerastes.
Yes, she was owed an explanation. They both were.
CHAPTER 16
Golden light filled Sora’s cabin. She sat on her small cot, her head in her hands. She couldn’t stop thinking of Burn. She felt like they were already too late to save his life.
Finally she reached under her cot and pulled out a locked wooden box. Just touching the wood made her hands cold, and she felt the Cat’s Eye stir at her neck uneasily. The box contained the Dark God’s sacred weapons. They had already recovered two of them from Volcrian’s wraiths: a sword hilt and a spearhead. The Shade was searching for them. Even more disturbing, it seemed that the third wraith had been captured. She wanted to question the female assassin again. How could the Shade hold such a powerful creature?
And what did the Shade plan to do with the three sacred weapons? How would they be used to resurrect the Dark God?
We need The Book of the Named, she thought. But which was more important? Finding the book, finding the wraith, or finding Burn? It should be obvious, she thought, but she had no answer.
Her skin prickled. The doorknob clicked. Sora stood up from her cot as the cabin door swung open, revealing the dark hallway beyond.
Crash stepped silently into the room. Candlelight flickered over his tall form, outlining his broad shoulders, powerful chest and narrow waist. Dark hair fell to his sharp, cunning jaw. He looked brutal and wolfish.
Sora’s lips parted in surprise.
He shut the door quietly behind him. The sound brought her back to herself. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said automatically. And why should it matter? a small voice asked. Again, no answer.
Crash stood facing her. His presence filled the small room. His shadow shifted along the wall, moving away from the light of the candle, seeming to have a mind of its own. The sight unnerved her.
“Our conversation from before was unfinished,” he murmured.
She blinked. “Really?”
He took the box from her hands and placed it on the bed. “I told you I didn’t know the assassins who attacked us.”
“Yes,” Sora said softly.
“But I didn’t tell you all.”
Her heart sank. Her instincts were right. He lied again, she thought.
In as few words as possible, Crash described the man who was once his Grandmaster. She realized this was a rare moment of truth for him. He spoke briefly of his life in the Hive and his enigmatic teacher, Cerastes. She did her best to understand, not knowing much about the ways of assassins.
“So this Grandmaster is in league with the Shade?” she asked once he finished.
“He is their leader,” Crash admitted softly.
Sora shuddered. The sense of his betrayal closed her throat. She knew it was Crash's way to keep secrets, but felt deceived that he would keep such a vital piece of information from her—and from the rest of the crew. She thought of Caprion’s suspicions, and the whispered rumors among the Dracians. Could she ever trust the assassin fully?<
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“Do you know why they want the sacred weapons?” she asked. “Do you know how they plan to raise the Dark God?”
Crash shook his head, but now she wasn’t sure if she believed him. “The Shade is a cult separate from the Hive. What they believe…and the magic they practice…is not what our kind sees as normal.” He paused. “But I think if Cerastes is in The Regency, then he has made some very powerful friends. I’m not sure why, but we will soon find out.”
Sora nodded in silent agreement. Cerastes. In her thoughts, the name sounded like some insidious reptile. Serraasteees.
“I’m worried about Burn,” she murmured.
“I’ll find him.”
“Alive or dead?” she asked bluntly. “This trip to The Regency is a waste of time. We should be out looking for him right now.”
Crash didn’t answer.
Frustrated, she gave him a piercing look. “Are you going to meet with him?”
“Who?”
“Cerastes.”
He hesitated just long enough for her to worry.
“No,” he said briefly. “If the Shade wants you, I won’t let you out of my sight.”
“Honestly, my safety isn’t important right now. If we must enter The Regency, then I’d rather you track down Burn. At least one of us will be out searching for him.” She sighed. “I don’t need your protection. I’m capable of handling myself.”
Her words sounded much bolder than she actually felt. Infiltrating the First Tier seemed far more daunting than hunting down the Shade. And what if their little charade were found out? If they connected her to Lord Fallcrest? Was there still a warrant out for her arrest? Her father’s death was two years ago and a hundred miles away, but she had been arrested before on charges of murder, and didn’t wish to repeat the experience….
Crash studied her. Sometimes he seemed to understand her silence better than her words. “I’m staying by your side,” he repeated.
“While Burn is tortured? He might already be dead!” she declared angrily. “You can’t take this decision out of my hands. I’ve grown, Crash. I’m stronger now. I don’t need you hovering over me. Why can’t you see that?” She thrust a finger at his chest. “I hate that you keep your past from me. I hate that you lie!”
Crash’s face darkened. “You think I enjoy lying to you?” he snapped. “In my race, deception means survival.”
“Then I hate what you are, and what the Hive has done to you,” she seethed.
Crash stared at her. He seemed shocked by her words. His voice became low and tense. “You can’t hate me for what I am. What I am is what shields you. What I am stands between you and a horde of demons! Why are you so infuriatingly blind? Everything I do—every damn word I say—is with you in mind.”
Sora searched his face, trying to understand. He grimaced for a moment, then his expression went stoically blank, like a mask sliding into place. “I’ll find Burn. That, I can promise you,” he said directly. “But tomorrow I will accompany you and Ferran. I will make sure you’re safe. You have no choice in that.”
“No choice,” Sora mocked, suddenly furious. “Burn’s life is more important than my safety. What have you been training me for, if I can’t defend myself against the Shade?”
“They’re stronger than I thought,” he started, but she held up her hand to stop him. He grabbed it. “Listen to me. The leader of the Shade, I knew him very well. He is someone to fear, Sora. I want you to fear him because it just might keep you alive. If they took you and not Burn….” He paused. “Stay as far away from the Shade as you can. Don’t seek them out. Trust me, will you?”
His words caused a chill to run down her arms. She had never heard Crash speak of fear in such a way. In fact, she remembered his advice on the Lost Isles—Fear is a product of the body. It is an illusion. Why would he encourage her to fear now?
“You don’t need to worry about me in The Regency. I’ll be among the nobility, surrounded by servants and the King’s soldiers—” she started.
He pointed at the wall as though they stood at The Regency gates. “That’s the Shade’s territory,” he observed. “They will take you in a heartbeat, given the chance. Drop your guard on the street, in a doorway, in a shop, and they will take you. Cerastes will use you for his own dark purposes.”
Sora glared at him, but his grip tightened. “I know that defiant look,” he said. “You think you can withstand him now, but Sora, you can’t imagine what they’re capable of.” He dropped her hand and grabbed her by the waist suddenly, his left hand cupping her rib cage over the white scar. “Do you remember this?” he asked softly.
Sora’s pulse tripled. She could feel his warm palm through her shirt. She couldn’t breathe. He did not brush her lightly, but pressed his entire hand against her.
Nervously, she ran her tongue over her dry lips. “You wrote me a note. For the first time I felt fear,” she quoted softly.
Those words hung between them, rich with meaning. For the first time he had felt fear—because she almost died. Her scar seemed to burn momentarily against his hand. She struggled to retain her composure, hardly able to keep eye contact.
“Your life is far more important to me,” he whispered. “I won’t let them take you.”
His words stole her breath. She struggled for a moment. “That’s wrong, Crash. We’re a team. We can’t abandon Burn….”
“I know,” he hushed, “but I will find him. I made you a promise. Let me handle it while you go with Ferran.” He paused. “This is your quest, Sora. If you fall, we all go with you. Don’t you see that?”
She frowned. Somehow, she had always thought of this as his story, his adventure, and she as just an innocent bystander swept up in his wake.
He pulled her forward, his hands still firm on her waist. Sora gasped at the iron strength of his arms. He looked at her throat where her pulse pounded erratically, then at the Cat’s Eye, gleaming around her neck, then up to her face, her lips….
Anticipation coiled in her stomach. She forced herself to breathe. “Are you going to kiss me again?” she asked, her voice huskier than intended. She cleared her throat. “Because that didn’t go so well last time.”
A smile flickered across his face. Crash leaned down and set his forehead against hers. “Does it truly matter what I do now?” he asked softly. “I tried to keep my distance. I wanted to protect you from the Shade, but they discovered you anyway.”
“True,” Sora agreed.
“I wanted to avoid rumors on this ship, but I suppose that didn’t work, either.”
“No, not very well,” she admitted.
“What do you need from me?” he asked softly.
Sora wordlessly pressed herself into his chest and closed her eyes. She felt wrapped in his presence, engulfed by his warm scent. She wished she could stay that way for hours, that he would tilt her head up and kiss her again, like he did on the Lost Isles.
Footsteps could be heard down the hall going past her door, reminding her of the crowded ship, and the stressful day looming tomorrow.
“It doesn’t seem right,” she finally admitted. “With Burn’s life hanging in the balance and the Shade so close, should we really talk about this now….?”
“We don’t need to talk about anything,” he said.
She expected him to withdraw, but his arms stayed around her. They stood like that, for longer than she knew. The silence between them was comfortable and familiar, like dust on a warm hearth. The tension left her shoulders. She remembered a time when they had touched like this regularly, innocently, without a thought for the future.
His self-control is admirable, she thought. He must feel the heat building between them….
“Perhaps we should talk about this?” she broached.
“No,” he said. “Let’s not.”
“When?” she asked. Something about his reply made her pursue it. “When shall we settle this?”
He searched her eyes with a bit of humor. “Is it really a matte
r to be settled?” he asked. “Like some business arrangement?”
She sighed, suddenly impatient. “Either we admit what’s between us, or we don’t. We keep returning to this, Crash, but I can’t stand here with just one foot in the water.”
“Then perhaps you’re the wiser one,” he replied. The resignation in his voice caught her attention. She pressed her cheek against his chest and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, keeping him as close as possible.
“You’re pulling away,” she said.
His hands stroked her spine as he curled around her like a living shield. Then he slowly detached himself. “You said it yourself. All or nothing,” he reminded her.
I assume by that he means "nothing," she thought. She blinked hard, wishing her eyes didn’t sting.
“We’ll rescue Burn,” he assured her.
She nodded quietly.
“I’ll save his life,” he repeated.
She nodded again.
He smiled faintly. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of her cabin. His shadow trailed reluctantly along the wall.
Sora sat back again on her cot, a hollow feeling at the base of her throat. She thought of the familiarity of his embrace, his possessive arms and the touch of his forehead against hers. Don’t dwell on it, she told herself. He's made his choice. Whatever was between them remained deep and uncharted, like an unfathomable ocean. She couldn’t call it love, but it went beyond fancy, beyond passion, and it was far from innocent.
He’s made his choice, she reminded herself. But for this moment, between candlelight and darkness, she allowed herself to imagine what might be.
* * *
Burn’s head spun. He felt sick to his stomach.
His Wolfy ears twitched. Somewhere in the distance, he heard the sound of churning gears, like a heavy jaw endlessly grinding. It made his head throb even worse, and he winced.
When he finally focused his eyes, he appeared to be in an empty, half-constructed room. Piles of rubble littered the floor and exposed wooden beams supported a heavy stone ceiling. By the thick walls and musty dry air, he guessed he was somewhere underground. He tested the chains on his wrists: solid iron. For the moment, unbreakable.
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